


Day Twenty

by dizzy



Series: Crisscolfer Advent 2014 [20]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: M/M, crisscolfer advent 2014
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 14:35:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2815616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/pseuds/dizzy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Prompt:</b> spiked eggnog shenanigans or too much wassail causes Darren to have the idea to actually go out wassailing.</p><p>(Remember <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2736938">Day Seven</a>? Might be helpful if you do.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day Twenty

“So is there a story behind last night?” Chris asks the naked stranger in his kitchen. 

He’s making waffles. Not just waffles, but cinnamon walnut waffles with special syrup he got at the farmer’s market. 

He has to buy his mother a new Christmas present now, but it’s worth it, he thinks. The sex was good enough to warrant wanting to make a good morning-after impression. 

So far, Darren seems appreciative. Chris doesn’t know him well enough to know if he’s a morning person, someone who just really likes any kind of food, or if he really is responding to Chris and his culinary wooing. 

“Oh yeah,” Darren says, scruffing his fingers through some epic sex-slash-bed hair. “Alcohol. Lots of alcohol. Truth or dare on spiked wassail is definitely on my proceed with caution list now.”

“Wassail?” Chris asks, lifting an eyebrow. “You didn’t seem too drunk last night. Or if you were, that was some impressive inebriated dexterity.” 

Darren grins the smuggest of grins. “The cold sobered us up pretty fast,” he says. “Speaking of, can I borrow some clothes?” 

Chris walks over to him, dropping two waffles on the plate. “Hm, I don’t know. What happens if I say no?” He flirts. “Do I get to keep you here?” 

It turns out, his grin can get even more smug after all. “I mean, are you sure you want to? I’m told I can be a handful when I get bored, and sometimes I shed.” 

“I’ll make sure I wear you out so you don’t have all that energy.” Chris winks at him. “Coffee? Tea?” 

“Tea?” Darren asks hopefully. 

“Perfect,” Chris says. “I don’t even drink coffee, I just keep it for guests.” 

He turns his kettle on to start the water heating. 

“Yeah? Overnight ones?” Darren asks. “You get a lot of those?” 

“Oh, you know…” Chris shrugs, his back to Darren again. “Once in a while. Apparently I’m highly attractive to drunken wassailers.” 

“You’re pretty appealing to sober ones, too,” Darren says. 

“Oh yeah?” Chris turns around, hands braced on the counter behind him. He is wearing an apron, but nothing else. “What about hungover ones?” 

“No hangover,” Darren says, taking a bite of his waffle. “I have great metabolism.” 

“I admire that,” Chris says. “I’m pretty sure if I played drunken truth or dare it would have just ended with me passed out on someone’s floor.” 

“Nah,” Darren says, accepting the tea Chris hands him. “I’d have paid someone twenty bucks to dare you to blow me, and it’d have ended with us sexiling someone from their bedroom.” 

“Well, sounds like for the sake of someone’s untainted sheets, it’s better that I wasn’t there, right?” Chris sits down opposite Darren with his own breakfast. 

“Except for the part where you have to sacrifice some of your clothing for the better good,” Darren says. 

“Mm. The board isn’t back on that yet.” The waffles really are amazing. His mother would have loved the mix. “But even if I do decide to release you back into the wild, the clothes will only be a loan.” 

“Oh yeah?” Darren grins. He has a smear of syrup just at the corner of his mouth. “Is that your way of guaranteeing you’ll see me again?” 

“Of course,” Chris says.” 

“You could just ask me out.” 

“But where’d the fun be in that?” 

“Touche,” Darren nods at him. “Then let me borrow some clothes and I’ll make an oath to return them to you… what do you say, seven pm tomorrow night?” 

“An oath?” Chris is dubious. “I prefer signed contracts.” 

“Well.” Darren looks around, then spots a pen on the countertop. He hops up to get it and walks back over to Chris, straddling his lap. Chris doesn’t even mind that his delicious meal is being interrupted, not when Darren’s bare ass is warming his thighs. Darren uncaps the marker with his teeth and leans back enough to start writing across Chris’s chest. 

I, Darren Criss, hereby agree to return the clothing of one-

Darren looks up. “What’s your last name?” 

“Colfer,” Chris supplies. 

-Chris Colfer at seven pm on Friday night. This contract is binding. 

He recaps the pen and tosses it on the table behind him, where it lands in a sticky puddle of syrup on Chris’s plate. “How’s that?” 

Chris looks down. “I can’t read it.” 

“Does that matter?” Darren cups the back of his neck and kisses him. Their chests press together and the ink smears at the heat between them. 

“Now I really can’t read it,” Chris says, laughing. “How about you just give me your phone number instead?” 

Darren grins. “That works for me.”

**Author's Note:**

> [reblog on tumblr]()


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